


He's Not a Drug Dealer, Okay?

by dyingpoet



Series: Sprace one shots [50]
Category: Newsies - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, spots dumb in this one for a change
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 18:10:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19835752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dyingpoet/pseuds/dyingpoet
Summary: Spot is suspicious about one of Jack's new friends and Jack really doesn't care





	He's Not a Drug Dealer, Okay?

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is partly a Personal Apology to those whole follow my tumblr for my total emotional breakdown last night, and partly bc im bored and dont have work today

“He has a burner phone.”

“Means nothin’.”

Spot snorted from where he was sat on the hood of Jack’s car. He could only see the bottom half of Jack though, the rest of his was underneath the car struggling to get it running again. It wasn’t going well. 

“Yeah well, there’s other things too,” Spot said, leaning back against the windshield. “Like he uses cash for everything.”

“Lots of people do that.”

“And he works from home,” Spot continued, “that’s weird.”

Jack pushed out from under the car and held his hand out for a rag. “Internet age, it’s easy to work from home now.”

Spot tossed him the rag and bit his lip. “I don’t know.”

The rag hit him in the face and he glared at Jack as he stood up, still covered in grease and oil and shaking his head at Spot.

“I know the guy Spot, Race is  _ not  _ a drug dealer.”

Hopping off from the hood Spot walked after him and shook his head. “How well do you really know anybody though? You don’t live with him.”

Jack slammed the driver’s side door shut and rolled his eyes and messed with his keys. “Just drop it for a second, okay? I think I got this working.”

“That’d be a miracle,” Spot mumbled. That was the fifth time that day Jack had ‘got it working’ and they were still sitting here. “Try and start it.”

Jack did, and the car sputtered tiredly for a minute as the key flipped back and forth before shutting off completely. Slamming his hands on the steering where Jack ripped the key out and whipped the door open.

“Stupid piece of shit I swear to god.”

“Aw Jackie don’t talk bad about yourself,” Spot said with mock sympathy as Jack got ready to roll back under the car. 

“Shut it.”

“But you’re making it so  _ easy _ .”

* * *

_ Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. _

“Shut up,” Spot groaned, shoving his head underneath his pillow. He had off today, even if someone died there was no way he was getting called into work.

_ Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. _

Growling, Spot reached blindly for the phone on his bedside table. A second later it clattered to the floor and Spot cursed.

_ Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. _

“Oh come on!”

There was no way he was going back to sleep now, so Spot sat up and picked up the phone off the floor. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes he was definitely going to kill whoever was calling him at-

“Six o’clock on in the morning? Are you kidding me?”

He squinted at the notification and sat up a little bit more. Someone had to be kidding him, it was a text from Race. Five actually, within the span of two minutes. 

_ Racetrack Higgins (6:02 AM) : hey _

_ Racetrack Higgins (6:02 AM) : i wanted to ask you something _

_ Racetrack Higgins (6:03 AM) : and it’s probably really dumb but it’s bothering me _

_ Racetrack Higgins (6:03 AM) : god it’s really early sorry you’re probably sleeping _

_ Racetrack Higgins (6:03 AM) : do you even have my number in your phone? This is race _

Okay this was ridiculous. Moving to sit cross-legged Spot opened up his phone and dialed Race, it was too early to read this much. It picked up on the second ring. 

_ “Hello?” _

Spot rubbed a hand over his face, and why was he fixing his hair? This was a phone call and he shouldn’t care about it anyway, it was just Race. “You wanted to tell me something.”

Race stuttered on the end of the line for a second and Spot smiled despite himself. _ “Oh, yeah, you’re awake then? And you have my number?” _

“Seems like it.”

He heard Race laugh nervously and frowned. Way too early for this. “So?”

_ “Yeah, so I was talking to Jack and stuff and I noticed that the last time we hung out you seemed like, weird?” _ Race said, rushing forward after that last part. _ “Not bad weird! Just like you were uncomfortable around me or something and I would hate if I said something to make you feel like that.” _

“Uh-huh,” Spot said slowly.

_ “And I’m probably overthinking it or something, I was up with work all night and just started to think about it, and this is weird right? Me calling you?” _

He was talking faster and faster and the anxiety was practically  _ bleeding  _ through the phone, so Spot just decided to sort of fuck it and cut to the chase.

“Race?”

_ “Yeah?” _

“Are you a drug dealer?”

There was a silence on the other end for a beat and Spot was about to backtrack when Race almost squeaked,  _ “What?” _

Standing up quickly, Spot started pacing around his room. That was definitely was too direct. “I just thought you might be because you have a burner phone and you always have cash and you work at home.”

Not that that was any less direct but he might as well just stop beating around the bush with it. He started picking at his nail beds a little because Race was taking a minute to answer.

_ “I-I’m just so- _ no, _ I’m not a drug dealer,”  _ Race said, and he didn’t sound super offended if that meant anything.  _ “Is that why you were acting weird?” _

Spot really hated himself right about then, and he sat back down on his bed with a sigh. “Shit, yeah. I’m so sorry, I just assumed.”

He perked up when Race laughed a little, not nervously, on the end. “ _ Yeah well, when you put it like that, I guess it sounds a little weird. God, it would be great if I was making that kind of money though, huh?” _

“Maybe look into a career change,” Spot suggested happily. He was happy talking to Race, it was strange.

_ “Well, I can explain everything though.” _

“Oh yeah?”

_ “Yeah,”  _ Race said quickly.  _ “So uh, I do website and graphic designs for this company that lets me work from home, and they gave me that cell to use because I have to take a ton of calls from them and they have their own phone plan set up that won’t cover my personal cell.” _

Spot nodded and yawned. “Okay, that makes sense.”

_ “Yeah, and I prefer to carry cash because I have this weird thing where like, if I don’t see the physical number in my bank account go down I don’t feel bad about buying food and stuff? So I usually have cash when I go out. That sounds really dumb.” _

“No it doesn’t,” Spot rushed out, “that actually makes a lot more sense than my thing which was like-”

_ “Drug dealing.” _

“Yeah,” Spot said sheepishly, “that was a super rude thing to assume, sorry.”

_ “It’s okay, _ ” Race said, and Spot could actually hear him relaxing as the conversation went on. _ “It was probably rude of me to spam you super early in the morning.” _

Spot was really exhausted actually, but he really didn’t want to make Race feel bad. He sort of liked the guy. “Eh, don’t worry about it. I can get more stuff done now anyway.”

Neither of them said anything for a couple second after that and Spot was about to end the call when Race cleared his throat.

_ “So uh, since we’re both up and are like, super okay with that, do you wanna meet me for breakfast?” _

He sounded so  _ shy  _ asking and Spot was taken completely by surprise but for some reason he really wanted to go. And he was actually blushing despite himself? Which was totally uncalled for but he was definitely taking to long to answer now.

“Yeah that sounds great,” he said, already getting up and starting for the bathroom door. “Where do you wanna meet?”

_ “Is The Blueberry Cafe good?” _

Spot smiled a little to himself before answering. “Yeah that works, see you in an hour?”

_ “Sure, it’s a date then.” _

Spot nearly tripped over his feet and he stuttered before answering, “Yeah, it is.”

_ “Okay, see ya then.” _

“See ya.”

He hung up and leaned back against the sink, mouth open. That was not at  _ all  _ what he was expecting. He started to slip out of his clothes for a shower and dialed a number as he did. It picked up.

_ “Spot? What the hell are you callin’ me for this early-” _

“Jack listen, Race called me,” he said, words bubbling up and he was way too happy for six in the morning, “and he’s not a drug dealer at all.”

_ “Ya don’t say.” _

“Yeah, and you’ll never believe what happened.”

“I probably won’t.”

Jack definitely fell back asleep while Spot rambled on, not that Spot noticed. He had a date to worry about, after all. 

**Author's Note:**

> are we all cool now?? repayment for your suffering bc of my dumbass??
> 
> but kudos/comments make my actual day so hmu!! also for that Sweet Drama u might be missing out on follow me on tumblr @dying-poet :)


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